


No Wrong Notes

by HoltzmannRadioTimes



Series: Beautiful Strangers [1]
Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Description of panic, Erin Gilbert/Jillian Holtzmann Fluff, Erin gets fired, F/F, Female Characters, First Kiss, First Meeting, Holtzmann owns a bar, Holtzmann plays the piano, Inspired by a Movie, Probably not the movie you're thinking of, Slash, dealing with panic, mention of anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-15 11:46:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9233738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoltzmannRadioTimes/pseuds/HoltzmannRadioTimes
Summary: Piano Bar AUErin has lost everything, her job, her boyfriend, her future. It's raining and she takes refuge in the first place she comes across. Holtzmann only wants to help.orThe value of being in the right place at the right time.This story has everything! Patty, pianos, problem solving! Angsty but not too angsty and eventual Holtzbert with a lot of meet cute in the middle.





	1. Grinding Halt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ljthebard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ljthebard/gifts).



> Stopped  
> Short  
> Grinding halt  
> Everything's coming to a grinding halt

“Ugh! What _else_ can go wrong?”

Erin sobbed as the rainfall caught up with her. The sudden deluge of water cascaded down her bangs and into the box of belongings she clutched dearly to her chest. Other people who were suddenly caught in the rain around her were rushing to shelter, but Erin couldn’t move an inch.

A sigh overtook her as she became entirely aware of how tired her body was.

She hadn’t been paying attention to how long she had been walking, or even in what direction, after leaving Columbia that afternoon, and realized that she was now hopelessly lost on top of being regrettably wet.

One could live in New York their entire life and still not know every nook and cranny of every borough, and Erin was discovering the uncertainty of her environment at that very moment.

“Where am I?” she whimpered, looking around.

Neon letters overhead spelling “BAR” shone through Erin’s dismal surroundings. She took _this_ sign as _her_ sign that this was a good time to reorient herself, rest her bones, and most importantly, get out of the rain.

If things were going to keep falling apart, she’d like to at least be indoors when it happened.

She balanced the box in one arm as she wrapped her hand around the antique door handle at the bar's entrance giving it a tug.  
One precarious step through the very old door that looked like it had never been locked and she found herself, thankfully, inside, greeted by a decidedly different atmosphere than the outdoors afforded her.

It was warmer, that was certain, not too crowded either; then again, how crowded could a bar on a Wednesday afternoon be? Erin wished she had never been put in the position to find out the answer to that question, but here she was.

She could hear a piano, an actual piano, being played from somewhere further into the bar than she could see from the hallway.

The music got louder as the door closed, shutting out the sound of rain, a welcome barrier from the horrible day she was hoping to leave outside.

Slowly wading in, Erin noticed that the air inside the bar was rather stale, a reminder of days gone by when patrons were once allowed to smoke indoors. If this bar had any other MO than providing vices for the vice-less it was certainly to assail ones senses with the smells of a time-worn tavern.

Not a soul looked up from their reverie when Erin entered. She could count the bar’s patrons on two hands. Some were strewn about the length of the bar, others in booths or at cabaret tables by the piano at the opposite end of the room.

The lighting was welcoming, not too dim, not too bright. Though, God knows, Erin could use a dark hole to hide in after the day she’s had. The music wasn’t bad either and she felt she might have even enjoyed it if she didn’t already feel like digging said hole herself.

The bartender, a smiling dark-skinned woman with beautifully intricate hair nodded in Erin’s direction and motioned to the empty high-backed leather stools at the bar, inviting her to sit. Erin smiled meekly in return and dropped her box onto one near the wall before crumpling into another beside it.

“What can I get you, ba… Ooh, is it raining out there?” the bartender asked, placing a napkin down on the bar in front of her.

Erin could only nod in affirmation as she began to feel that familiar strangle forming in her throat, (you know, the one that happens when you're about to cry), knowing words would not help her keep it down.

The bartender eye’d the box next to her and... is that a plant?... adding it to Erin’s forlorn expression and disheveled appearance, she calculated that this was _not_ her day.

“I’m gonna give you a minute, sweetie,” she said softly with a smile and wandered over to top off another patron’s drink.

Erin allowed herself to exhale for maybe the first time that day, taking off her trench coat and stuffing her scarf into the box next to her; the box that held the contents of her desk, her long-time, now once-upon-a-time, desk.

 _Seven years down the drain_...

She pulled her cell phone from her blazer pocket to check it for signs of life. A glimmer of hope quickly died when the only notification she had was from her roommate, Abby, asking if she wanted her to pick something up for dinner.

Well, at least she still had Abby.

What Erin had hoped, falsely, was that Phil, her boyfriend, if you could call him that, would have called. Or texted. Or even acknowledged her very existence as she passed him in the hallway during her walk of shame while leaving Pupin Hall for the last time that day.

But he didn’t, and he wouldn’t, and like so much of her life as she knew it, that chapter was now most likely closed as well.

A single tear slid down Erin’s cheek, and she wiped it off faster than it had appeared.

 

The piano music suddenly became more lively as the pianist transitioned into something swingy, breaking Erin out of her daze, and welcomingly so.

She pinched her arm and attempted to blink away a few more forming tears she was loathe to shed and glanced around, taking in the antique stained glass transom windows above the bar and the photographs of celebrities nailed to the wall.

This place must have been in its prime in the late 70’s, she thought. Erin imagined that the bar would have been a lot more crowded on a Wednesday afternoon back then, and the patrons much more vibrant most likely having enjoyed party favors of the powdery persuasion on top of their pale pilsners.

This place wasn’t all that bad, Erin decided. It would do for now.

The bartender returned, having noticed Erin’s perk in demeanor, and gladly took her order.

She returned expeditiously with a Manhattan, garnished with two cherries, calling it “Patty’s Special.”

Erin thanked her and ate one of the cherries immediately. She took one long drink from the glass and dolefully bit her lip, staring off into space having everything and nothing on her mind all at the same time.

The piano played on, a whimsical juxtaposition to her melancholy.

Erin unfortunately caught her reflection in the mirror by the bar. Upon seeing her damp and drying hair and runny makeup for the first time, she congratulated herself on the perfect shit-storm of a day she was having, and ruefully ate her second cherry, sighing another heavy sigh, and wiping her lower lids with her index fingers.

She hardly noticed the change in the room as she laid her head down on the bar, face-down against her hands.

The music had stopped, followed by light applause and soft talking that that seemed to ripple through the bar; some random accolades that Erin could barely make out, but wasn’t listening to anyway.

Shortly thereafter she felt a new presence close at hand, but paid little mind.

“Here you go, baby,” Erin half heard the bartender say to the unseen someone nearby.

“Thanks, Patty,” a voice reciprocated.

Erin lifted her head and looked into her drink. She sat stirring it with her straw for a moment before slurping another dram.

Suddenly, the aforementioned newcomer was altogether very near…

Erin heard a voice low in her ear that made her choke on her drink…

"Come here often?”


	2. Strange As Angels

To say that Erin was startled by the sudden salutation would be an understatement.

 

She wasn’t used to encountering any of the details of that particular situation…well…ever.

 

Was she being hit on? In a bar?

 

She turned to set eyes on the cause of her turmoil, expecting to see some drunken barfly, and was surprised to see instead a pile of flaxen curls fixed atop the face of a jovial, bespectacled young woman now seated next to her.

 

“I’m sorry, hello? Who… who are you?” Erin stuttered, wiping her Manhattan off her chin with a napkin.

 

“Holtzmann. Lifetime subscriber to NatGeo, caffeine free, ivory tickler, and 100% jazzed to meet you,” the stranger offered, taking Erin’s hand and kissing it as she leaned an elbow against the bar. “I didn’t catch your name, miss…”

 

“Er…Erin…”

 

“Erin…” Holtzmann tried the name out. “Patty, one more for the lady, please. On the house,” she called to her friend behind the bar without taking her eyes off the redhead.

 

“Oh, no, thank you….Hol…”

 

“-Holtzmann… my friends call me Holtz…”

 

“…Holtzmann… I’m really just…” Erin attempted to compose herself as she retracted her hand, realizing she had forgotten to retrieve it, folding it into the other in her lap with an abashed smile.

 

“It’s cool, I know the owner,” Holtzmann winked, earning a laugh from Patty.

 

Under different circumstances Erin might have accepted, but this was neither the time nor the place for this person’s advances.

 

Erin spread her hands up on the bar in front of her as if to claim that area as hers and hers alone, “I’m actually doing just fine with the drink I have, thank you.”

 

“At least let me get you some club soda for the mess I caused. Half your drink went down the front of your blouse,” Holtzmann offered, pointing at Erin’s shirt.

 

“Oh, shoot,” Erin winced, noticing the spill on her shirt for the first time.

 

The blonde removed her yellow-tinted glasses and cleaned them on her vest while smiling at Erin with a sideways glance. “Sorry about that, I thought you heard me sit down.”

 

Erin shook her head without looking up.

 

Patty dropped off a tumbler of the requested liquid and a small stack of paper napkins in front of Erin and returned to the magazine she was reading near the register.

 

Erin sighed defeatedly, “…As if it matters, I already look a mess.”

 

“I’m gonna stop you there….To be honest, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you from the moment you came in,” Holtzmann interjected.

 

Now Erin was certain she was hearing things. “ _Excuse me?_ ”

 

“Allll the way from over there,” Holtz pointed in the direction of the piano. “Baby, please, you are far _too_ fine to be looking _so_ sad.”

 

Patty shook her head and turned away, trying to hide her smile at the ridiculous line.

 

Ok, even Erin was smiling at that.

 

 _Ridiculous_...

 

She dampened a napkin and wiped her shirt.

 

“You didn’t notice me transition into ‘Booty Swing’ when you sat down? I was trying to cheer you up."

 

Erin almost choked again, “ _Booty swing_?”

 

“…by Parov Stelar? _Booty Swing_ , you know… everyone knows!”

 

“No, I’m sorry.”

 

“More like swing and a miss…” Patty said under her breath but loud enough for them to hear.

 

“Quiet, you…” Holtzmann shushed.

 

Now Erin was laughing, which was something she hadn’t expected to be doing anytime soon.

 

Holtzmann stood and took one last swig of her beverage before setting it down on the bar.

 

“That’s ok. At least I got you to smile. I’ll let you enjoy your drink,” she said as she turned to go.

 

“No… please…” Erin took a breath, scrunching her nose.

 

Was she really going to ask this stranger to stay? Erin Gilbert was a vulnerable creature at the moment.

 

“I’m sorry… I’m just not good company today. I am literally in the middle of what quite possibly may be the worst day of my entire life.” She took a shaky breath and wrung her hands in her lap.

 

“Woah, woah… No worries. We’ve all had bad days. You wanna talk about it?” Holtzmann returned to her seat beside Erin, scooting it a little closer. If Erin noticed, she certainly didn’t mind.

 

“Yes. No. I don’t know….”

 

Holtzmann motioned to Patty for that second drink… for both of them… and when Patty set them down Erin tucked into hers immediately.

 

Gulping it down, Erin spat out a question almost before the liquid had even left her mouth, “Do you believe in ghosts…?”

 

' _Well, that’s an interesting question_ ,' Holtzmann thought.

 

“Uhh... My nickname in middle school was ‘ghost tits,’ does that count?”

 

“Probably not.”

 

Now _Holtzmann_ was laughing. "Yes. I believe in ghosts. Are you saying… your day was bad because you… saw a ghost?”

 

“Yes… no… no, not exactly…. sort of. I did… see a ghost, very recently actually. And documented it. It was beautiful. I was entering into a period of research on the paranormal, but the video I took got leaked before I could compile any substantial data. Unfortunately, the faculty at large with whom I work… worked… didn’t see it as something to be taken seriously. In turn, they no longer saw _me_ as something to be taken seriously.” A long pause, she covered eyes with her hand.

 

“I got fired.”

 

Erin gestured at the box of bric-a-brak in the seat next to her and took up her drink once again.

 

Holtzmann made a low whistle. “Fired? You’re…you _were_ a professor?”

 

“At Columbia,” she nodded, “Doctor of Particle Physics. We were all set for the final review of my tenure case next week. Tenure! I was _this_ close to my whole life being made. For a lifetime of hard work to have paid off. Then _poof_ nothing. Nada. May as well be dead. Why couldn't I just have waited? They couldn't have touched me if I had tenure..."

 

“That’s heavy, Doc,” Holtzmann said, thoughtfully rubbing the back of her neck.

 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be dumping my drama on you, you probably need get back to work. I don’t want to get you in trouble with your boss too.”

 

“Somehow, I don’t think she’ll mind,” Holtzmann grinned and pointed to the photos on the wall.

 

Taking a better look at the pictures of celebrities on the wall next to her, she now noticed that her companion was a second smiling face in every single one of them.

 

“This… is _your_ bar?” Erin asked sheepishly.

 

“She certainly is,” Holtzmann responded, a proud parent.

 

"But you're so young... how... I mean... not to be presumptuous, but..."

 

"No, I get it all the time. I’m actually the heir to the Pringles fortune.”

 

“What? Really?”

 

“No, of course not… Wait, is that a thing?”

 

Erin gave Holtzmann a playful swat, shaking her head at her own gullibility.

 

“No, this place used to belong to my grandpa. He left it to me when he passed a couple years ago. But I’ve always kinda been here.“

 

“That’s incredible. I take it that you and your grandpa were close, then.”

 

“You could say that. He was very supportive of me, of my interests; my _many_ rotating interests.”

 

“Like… the piano?”

 

“Like the piano.” Holtzmann cleared her throat with a strange honking sound that made Erin flinch.

 

“I pick things up quick and get bored with them pretty easily. But, the piano, that was an interest that never waned. I used to come in here after school growing up and he’d play the piano with me until it was time to go home.”

 

“And your parents didn’t mind you hanging out in a bar every day?”

 

Holtzmann’s brows drew together at the question.

 

“Gramps raised me. I didn’t have anyone else.”

 

Erin immediately regretted her question and covered her face with her hands. “I’m such an idiot, I’m sorry…”

 

“No, it’s ok. You didn’t know,” Holtzmann flourished her hand through the air. “C’est la vie.”

 

The air hung heavy between them for a moment, and Erin thought quickly on how to break the tension, skipping right to a safety.

 

“Well, you play very well. Are you a pianist by profession?”

 

“Me? No, its just a well-loved hobby. My trade is a little more nuanced.”

 

“Oh? Enlighten me. Tell me where life has taken you, Holtzmann.” Erin was feeling a little more relaxed. She figured she had absolutely nothing in common with this person so light conversation would be an enjoyable distraction.

 

. _..Talk on, piano player, talk on_...

 

“Well, I was on a bit of an accelerated learning track back in the day. I, uh, graduated High School when I was 14, college by 16, and I had my doctorate by the time I was 22…”

 

Erin almost fell out of her chair. “Wait…what? You have your doctorate?” She shook her head in disbelief. “In… in what field? This is incredible!”

 

Holtzmann turned bright red at Erin’s delight. It wasn't every day someone got the drop on _her_ like that.

 

“It’s nothing, just Nuclear Engineering. And, you'll enjoy this, I had a secondary specialization in experimental particle physics, actually.”

 

“Shut UP. You’re putting me on… Are you serious? Just… _just_ nuclear engineering? And particle… From where?”

 

“MIT. Did a little work abroad too… and then I spent a few years bouncing from lab to lab until Gramps died.”

 

“Incredible. And you gave it all up, to run a bar?”

 

Erin felt like she was treading on thin ice with her wording and regretted it immediately.

 

“That came out wrong. What I meant is that’s a pretty big shift in gears, you have to admit.”

 

“You’re not wrong. It was a very big shift. When he passed away I just felt like I had this giant hole in my life that science wasn’t filling. Like I said, I pick things up quick, and get bored easily, and it’s not like I hadn’t already accomplished a lot. I don’t consider it giving up, it’s more of a sabbatical, really. Just a little va-cay from inventing. I actually have a standing invite to return to my last position anytime I want."

 

Holtzmann was relieved to see that Erin looked impressed.

 

"Plus, I get to meet new people,” she added, gesturing to Erin, “play the piano and all that, and I like that I can afford folks a place to come and enjoy themselves for a little while; we have a good time. It’s different, you know? I like making people happy.”

 

“Does it make _you_ happy?” Erin asked.

 

Holtzmann turned in her chair, Erin could see the wheels spinning behind her ice blue eyes.

 

“Yeah. It does,” she nodded reflectively, a half-smile tugging at the side of her mouth.

 

With that, Erin was beginning to feel that getting caught in the rain outside the bar may have been the only thing to actually go right that day.

 

Just then the piano music started up again, catching Erin by surprise. She looked at Holtzmann and then across the room to where a rather imposing, yet extremely handsome man was seated at the piano, playing beautifully.

 

Erin pointed toward the new player, amused at the changing of the guard, “Friend of yours?”

 

Holtzmann tossed her curls back in the direction Erin was pointing, “That’s Kevin, he’s the bar back and he plays sometimes when the mood strikes. Not the sharpest crayon in the box, but dammit he’s a good piano player.”

 

“Mmmhmm,” Patty chimed in, obviously having listened to their entire conversation thus far.

 

Holtzmann shook her empty glass at Patty, ice clinking, and pouted, hinting that she would like a refill. Patty obliged happily.

 

“He used to come in here on jazz nights, likes to listen to saxophone music, but then one night he just sat down at the piano after everyone left and… played. He’d never touched the keys in his life he said.”

 

Holtzmann zoned out for a moment thinking about it.

 

“I’ve never seen anything like it. What was it you called him, Patty?”

 

“Idiot savant.”

 

“Thaaaat’s right. So, I offered him a job and here we are."

 

“Wow. He’s wonderful,” Erin added, gazing across the room, impressed by Holtzmann’s story.

 

“Thanks. I taught him everything he knows,” Holtzmann winked, leaning over the bar in Erin’s eye line.

 

Erin sat back and made no effort to disguise the fact that she was sizing the blonde up. ‘ _Who is this woman?_ ’

 

Then she turned to Patty, mimicking Holtzmann’s shake and pout, and ordering herself another drink (but adding a 'please’, because manners), to Holtzmann’s delight.

 

“I bet this place has some stories,” Erin spoke again, searching the details of the room with her eyes.

 

Holtzmann beamed, “Stick around, I'd love to tell you a few. Might even have a couple ghost stories for ya."

 

Patty returned with their drinks.

 

"Thank you, Pattycakes,” Holtzmann cooed, cradling her refreshed glass as Patty cleared their empty ones away from the bar.

 

“Don’t do that.”

 

Holtzmann jokingly reached out to hold Patty’s hand and was swatted away, “Holtzy, sorry.”

 

“You’re cut off,” Patty threatened, smiling and muttering under he breath as she walked away.

 

They clinked their glasses together in cheers and sat in silence for the remainder of the song.

 

Erin couldn't take her eyes off Holtzmann.

 

She was dressed oddly well, grey slacks with a matching grey waistcoat over a periwinkle button up shirt that had the first two buttons popped.

 

Smart looking but not stuffy, unlike everyone with whom Erin usually kept company.

 

Was she really a scientist? This woman was definitely too sexy for academia, Erin decided.

 

Whoever she was, the energy between them was not uncomfortable at all, and Erin was glad of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reference, this is 'Booty Swing' by Parov Stelar as I imagine Holtz played it to get Erin's attention.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2u7jEUmA3VE


	3. Show Me How You Do It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See end for this chapter's music notes. No pun intended.

Holtzmann had gotten up to use the restroom and stopped shortly to carouse with the other bar-goers on her way back.

 

Boisterous laughter rose after she offered a humorous anecdote to the small group nearby.

 

Watching Holtzmann interact with them, people whom she may even have known her entire life based on her backstory, in a place assumedly as much _home_ to her as any person’s apartment was to them, she seemed _happy_ to Erin. 

 

Truly happy.

 

Erin was trying to wrap her mind around the idea that this woman potentially had the whole world at her fingertips and yet this is the life she chooses.

  

What an anomaly.

 

 It must be nice to have options.

 

“You make a living doing this, do you?” She gestured around them as the blonde returned to her seat.

 

Holtzmann puffed out her chest.

 

“Yep. But, as soon as I figure out how to make a living making pretty girls smile, I will board this place up _immediately._ ” She tapped on the bar with an insistent finger.

 

Erin laughed, the alcohol was definitely beginning to take effect.

 

Holtzmann’s eyes twinkled at the laughter.

 

“What would you do if you could do anything?” Holtzmann posed.

 

“Anything? Gosh. Um… You know, it probably sounds boring, but right now I’d really love to just continue my research into the paranormal. I was informed that ‘no self-respecting scientist believes in the paranormal…" she said in an affected tone, “…But I do, I can assure you that, and I’m no dummy. At this point, though, I’d be lucky to get a job anywhere. 'Disgraced by Columbia' is not going to be something I can easily live down.”

 

Holtzmann bit the inside of her cheek and pursed her lips, staring at Erin and weighing the info.

 

“Maybe I can make a few calls. The mayor owes me a favor.”

 

Erin laughed breathily, “Does he, now?"

 

“Not the mayor exactly, but I know people. I’d love to help you. I know I can…”

 

Erin didn’t know what to say, but she was starting to feel put on again. “No. You don’t even know me…”

 

“I know that, but like I said, I enjoy making people happy.”

 

She pulled a cell phone out of her pocket and began scrolling through the contacts.

 

“I’ll put you in touch with some friends at NYU. I happen to know that they have an opening in the physics department at the moment.”

 

She began an email to someone.

 

“I know this,” she continued in stilted starts as she typed, “because… they’ve been… holding it… for _me_ …”

 

Erin heard the swoosh of an email being sent off, and then Holtzmann’s eyes were back up to hers looking very pleased with herself.

 

“You can’t be serious,” Erin was nearly falling over at the thought of any of this being real. “This can’t be happening.”

 

“Oh, it’s happening alright," Holtzmann said, chewing her straw.

 

“What did that email say? You don’t even have my info.”

 

“I just said that I met a very attractive Particle Physicist who was on the move and in high demand, and that I think they’d be dumb not to make an offer. I think they’d fall over themselves to have someone with _all your big ideas_ on their faculty."

 

She poked at Erin’s side, causing her to fight a smile and push Holtzmann’s hands away.

 

“Their lab facilities are pretty state of the art, too. I think it might be a place where you could continue your research. Besides… I’m not planning on going back any time soon, so if I have my druthers I’d much rather that position be put to use, you know?”

 

“You’re crazy. But… what have I got to lose? Today can’t _get_ any weirder. In fact, I’ll most likely wake up and discover this is all a dream.”

 

She began to dig through her purse.

 

“A few hours ago I got fired, and now I’m being told about an opening already at NYU. At this rate maybe by the end of the day I’ll have won the lottery and be engaged to a millionaire! Oop…”

 

She produced a hair tie from her purse.

 

“Better look my best, then.” 

 

The redhead looked in the mirror again and pulled her messy locks back into a tidier ponytail.

 

"There. Much better."

 

Holtzmann was entranced, and didn’t care about Erin’s somewhat snarky, most likely tipsy response to her grand gesture.

  

She understood where it was coming from.

 

What were the odds they would have met that day under those very specific circumstances?

  

Holtzmann didn’t pretend to understand how the universe worked, but thanked it for this turn of events, and she was definitely onboard for whatever this ride might turn out to be.

 

She could agree, things _were_ moving fast, but she meant what she’d said, she wanted to help.

 

They’d only just met and she would have build a time machine if that’s what Erin wanted, truth be told.

 

There was another long beat of silence between them. Holtzmann swallowed audibly before clearing her throat.

 

“Speaking of engagements of sorts…is there a _Mr._ Doctor Erin?”

 

Erin scoffed a laugh at the absurdity of the question Holtzmann unwittingly asked, the subtext of it brushed over by the flood of feelings that came rushing back in reminder.

 

“Ha! That’s another thing… _Mr. Doctor Erin_ …. I don’t even think he’s a boyfriend anymore, let alone husband material…”

 

She found herself overcome with despair again.

 

“Oh, God. Everything really is gone,” she inhaled, covering her mouth.

 

Holtzmann realized her error in inquiry.

 

“He’s not the one who fired you, is he?” Another misstep.

 

_Holtzmann, you idiot…_

 

Erin didn’t hear her anyway.

 

“In my weakest moment, when I was leaving the Physics building with all my belongings stuffed into this box, I passed him in the hall. And you know what he did?"

 

She sat up tall in her chair and leaned toward Holtzmann.

 

"He had the gaul to pretend like he didn’t even see me. Like he didn’t even know me.”

 

“I bet that hurt.”

 

“It did. It really fucking did.” Erin fought back a stream of tears. “Sorry, I don’t usually curse.”

 

“Erin, I don’t know what kind of guy would take you for granted like that, but he sounds like a complete waste of your time. He just ignored you? How long have you been seeing this creep?”

 

Holtzmann was beginning to feel hot under the collar listening to her talk like this.

 

“Officially? Three months. Unofficially, maybe a year. On and off. I think about it now, and I can’t honestly say it’s ever been a storybook romance. What a fucking mess…” 

 

Here came the tears.

 

Holtzmann handed Erin a napkin to dry her eyes as she went on.

 

“When I’m with him he’s fine, when it’s just us. But when we’re with a group of people, or out in public, he’s not really a nice person. You know? And then today… I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life. He acted like he didn’t even know me. Holtz, I walked right by him, I called his name, and he acted like he’d never seen me before. I’ve never felt so alone.”

 

Holtzmann took note of the new informal use of her name.

 

Erin’s eyes searched Holtzmann’s for answers, and she felt a warm hand close over her shaking one.

 

Holtzmann squeezed Erin’s hand and thought fast, eyes darting around. She spotted Kevin at the piano.

 

“This won’t do. Wait here a sec.”

 

Erin worried as she watched the younger woman walk away, finding herself somewhat sad of the sudden space between them.

 

Holtzmann had gone over to Kevin and whispered something in his ear.

 

Kevin’s face lit up and he nodded enthusiastically, bringing a smile back to Holtzmann’s in return.

  

The blonde caught Erin’s attention and motioned for her to join them at the piano; she was swift to comply.

 

As she crossed the room she began to feel somewhat self-conscious, expecting everyone else (all eight of them) to be watching her, the only thing moving in the otherwise still bar.

 

They weren’t though.

 

Fortunately, the other New Yorkers occupying this particular bar with her were just as self-absorbed as most of the ones on the outside of the bar, and they paid her no mind as she made her way to the piano.

 

Holtzmann reached out a welcoming arm to Erin and turned to Kevin.

 

“Erin, this is Kevin. Kevin, allow me to introduce Doctor Erin….”

 

“Just Erin… Erin’s fine.”

 

“A pleasure to meet you, Doctor,” the preppy-dressed man politely responded.

 

Erin felt a blush spread across her cheeks, but a pang of disappointment accompanied it when she wondered why Holtzmann had called her over.

 

Was she introducing her to Kevin for a reason?

 

Erin had not missed Holtzmann flirting with her, which was unexpected, but not unwelcome.

 

Surely she wasn’t going to try and pawn her off on this person?

 

She’d just as soon go back to her barstool, or back out in the rain if that were the case.

 

She was enjoying her company just fine, tears or no.

 

“Erin was admiring your playing, Kevin,” Holtzmann lauded, making Kevin bow his head in appreciation.

 

Holtzmann fixed her eyes back on the redhead.

 

“Erin, what’s your favorite song?”

 

“I…uh... I don’t… I don’t know.”

 

Holtzmann laughed in disbelief, “You don’t know?”

 

Erin took a step forward, touching to piano lid, the alcohol hitting her a little harder now that she was standing.

 

“Sorry, of course I know. I just wasn’t expecting to be asked that just now. Um… The Cure. Just Like Heaven? I really like that song.”

 

“Kevin, do you know that one?” Holtzmann smiled warmly, keeping her eyes on Erin.

 

“Sure, boss,” he gave back eagerly.

 

He set his hands back down on the keys and began to play.

 

Erin couldn’t believe her ears, it was just like Holtzmann and Patty had said.

 

She believed now that Kevin could have played almost any song she suggested.

 

The music just seemed to flow directly out of his fingers as if from some magic place.

 

Erin softened at the sound.

 

Holtzmann leaned on the piano and watched Erin watch Kevin.

 

She could tell the music was transformative for her.

 

After several moments she stood up and took Erin’s hand.

 

Erin looked down at Holtzmann’s hand on hers and then back up to meet her eyes.

 

Without words, the blonde led Erin a few steps away from the piano bringing their clasped hands up, and resting her other one around Erin’s waist.

  

Understanding what was happening, Erin fell right in with the motions, putting her free arm up around Holtzmann’s neck… and they were dancing.

 

Erin could hear the words in her head, and as they moved to the music the piano made the whole room seem to slip away.

 

 

_Spinning on that dizzy edge_

_I kissed her face and kissed her head_

_And dreamed of all the different ways I had_

_To make her glow_

 

 

She couldn’t believe the trajectory this day had taken.

 

She was reminded again how just an hour ago she was lost in the rain and now, inexplicably, she was slow dancing with a woman she had just met to her favorite song being played by a piano prodigy. 

 

If this was a typical day for Holtzmann she understood exactly why she liked the life she was living.

 

Erin didn’t think she had ever known the freedom Holtz knew.

 

Holtzmann was singing softly now, just loud enough for Erin to hear.

 

Erin subconsciously leaned in and rested her head alongside Holtz’.

 

She could feel the shorter woman’s breath on her ear and it melted something inside her that she hadn’t felt in quite a while.

 

_You_

_Soft and only_

_You_

_Lost and lonely_

 

 

“I _love_ this song…” Erin whispered with her whole heart, eyes closed as they swayed.

 

“I…” Holtzmann began… stopping short of any sub-sequent words.

 

Erin lifted her head and looked Holtzmann in the eye.

 

Their faces were so close.

  

Holtzmann glanced down at Erin’s lips so pink, and then fixedly back up to meet her eyes with wide pupils taking in the sight before her.

 

She really was beautiful.

 

One more turn on the floor and Holtzmann brought her other hand down to Erin’s waist, joining both hands to rest on the small of her back.

 

Erin hugged hers arms around the blonde's neck and sighed into her partner's embrace.

 

Holtzmann whispered Erin’s name, eyes closed, lips barely brushing against hers…

 

_Just like heaven_

 

At that precise moment when they were about to connect, Erin’s cell phone rang from her blazer pocket, blasting them out of their daydream.

 

“Are you kidding me?” Erin cursed, taking her phone out of her pocket.

 

Holtzmann could only laugh, of course the phone would ring right then.

 

Erin looked at the screen in disbelief, ‘Phil’ the caller ID read. This was altogether too much information to process at once.

 

_Were we about to kiss?_

_Phil was calling?_

_Phil?_

_What if we had kissed right then?_

_What was I thinking?_

_Fucking Phil..._

_I should see what he wants._

_Why was Holtzmann laughing?_

_But what if we had kissed right then…_

 

“I’m sorry… I have to take this…” Erin frowned, not looking Holtzmann in the eye as she headed toward the door.

 

Holtzmann waved a hand excusing her, having no idea who was on the phone, and continued to laugh to herself at the hilarity of the moment.

 

“Did she not like the song?” Kevin questioned, worried his playing was less than satisfactory.

 

“No, buddy, you did great,” she affirmed, clapping him on the shoulder as she watched Erin exit the bar, “Just great.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the closest I could find to how I imagine Kevin played 'Just Like Heaven' for Erin, I would bring the tempo down a tick though. It really does sound lovely on piano. If you don't know this song in its original form, please look it up, it's classic. :)
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lYEV8BxGnRQ


	4. Cut Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was debating splitting this into two angsty chapters but I decided to tear the bandaid off for you guys and get it all out in one fell swoop. Erin takes the phone call, Phil's the fucking worst, everything is wrong. I'll make it up to you guys in the next chapter, though. Scout's honor.

Back outside.

 

She felt like she had been ripped away.

 

And now she was back outside, under the awning in front of the bar.

 

Holtzmann’s bar.

 

Staring at her phone.

 

She’d answered Phil’s call when she was walking away. She didn’t want to take the call inside, in front of…

 

_Were they about to kiss..?_

 

Erin stared back at the door.

 

‘Hello? Hello! Erin!’

 

Phil’s muffled voice coming from the phone broke her from the thought.

 

… _Phil_ …

 

Her brow creased as she looked down at the phone in her hand. She couldn’t believe the nerve of this guy.

 

Erin put the phone to her ear, eyes screwed shut.

 

“Hello?”

 

The word fell out of her mouth like it was broken.

 

Phil started in as though it were any other day.

 

“Erin. Where the hell are you? What was all that noise?”

 

“Phil. I’m… Hmm? Um. What do you want?” Her thoughts flowing between weary and annoyed.

 

“What do I _want_?” His indignant tone not unfamiliar.

 

“Where are you? I'm your apartment and Abby said you haven’t been here.”

 

“No, I haven’t, Phil. I’m out.”

 

“So, I came all the way over here for nothing. Just great. What do you mean _out_?”

 

“You could have called…”

 

“Erin, I’ve had an extremely stressful day trying to clean up your mess. Do you have any idea what you getting fired did to me?”

 

“To _you?!_ ” It took everything in Erin not to throw her phone as far and as hard as she could into the street.

 

“What do you mean _to you_? I’m the one who got fired!” She raised her voice slightly, then brought it back down to a dead whisper, still somehow subconsciously worried about drawing attention to herself on the street.

 

“…And it left everyone else to pick up the pieces. Margaret, Daniel, and I all have to take on your classes now. Like I don’t have enough on my plate this semester. You know what… we’ll talk about this later. Where are you, I’m coming to get you.”

 

“I don’t want to go home right now, Phil. I’m very upset.”

 

She instantly regretted omitting the words “…with you.”

 

“Look, I know… It’ embarrassing… We _all_ know. But you’ll fix this. You’ll have to.”

 

“How the hell am I to fix this, Phil? Send a cookiegram to everyone on the faculty that says ‘Sorry I saw a ghost’ ?”

 

She could hear him sigh. “Fillmore is willing to reinstate you on a conditional basis.”

 

Reinstate? Erin’s head was swimming on account of the alcohol.

 

_Was this good news? Why did it feel wrong?_

 

“All you have to do is go back and tell him you lied about seeing the ghost, that the video was a prank. Just tell everyone it was all an embarrassing mistake, and then you can return. Tenure’s down the drain, and you probably won’t get all your classes back which will really screw things up for me, but at least you won’t be disgraced.”

 

Disgraced. Erin had used that same word earlier. _Disgraced was the worst possible outcome wasn't it?_

 

 _Was Phil offering her a consolation?_ She couldn’t think.

 

“I can’t say I lied. How is that not equally damaging?” Erin reasoned.

 

“What are you going to do instead? Go work at Higgins with Abby?” Phil laughed snidely. “What choice do you have?”

 

What the hell was happening? This was an ambush.

 

She had been dragged from the depths of despair to a drunken dreamland and back to hell all in an afternoon.

 

The email Holtzmann had sent to NYU was the furthest thing from Erin’s mind at the moment, but even then that wasn’t a sure thing.

 

Phil was right. She didn’t have a choice.

 

“You can come over tonight and figure out what to say to beg for your job back. I’ll meet you at my apartment in an hour.”

 

Erin was a prisoner in her own nightmare.

 

She hung up the phone and slumped against the wall by the door, gasping for air.

 

Adrenaline kicked in setting her mind running a million miles an hour with this new information from Phil.

 

_She could get her job back but she most likely won’t get tenure at Columbia in her lifetime._

 

_She could get her job back but she would have to sign a lie to her name._

 

_She hadn’t lost Phil, at least it seemed that way. That was a good thing, right?_

 

She knew what she had to do.

 

 

»»-------------¤-------------««

 

 

Erin opened the door and went back inside.

 

The same sensations she had encountered when she first arrived were playing on repeat…. sound… smell…. sight… All were assaulting her now.

 

Her head was pounding along with her heartbeat.

 

At the end of the hallway, as she walked down the two steps to the barroom floor, her eyes locked on Holtzmann again and she remembered what had happened right before her phone rang...

 

What had _almost_ happened...

 

The Engineer was very invested in something on her phone, seated there on a barstool with Patty looking over her shoulder.

 

She sprung out of her chair when she saw Erin, closing half the distance between them and brandishing her phone for Erin to see.

 

“See, didn’t take long at all!” She smiled, bouncing slightly at the knee.

 

“My colleagues at NYU want to meet you! I just wrote them back. I’ll forward you the email and you can set up a meeting. I can go with you….”

 

Erin felt the blood rush from her face.

 

Holtzmann’s energy waned a bit when Erin didn’t say anything and instead walked past her to the stool where her box of belongings sat, pawing at the things inside as though she was looking for something that wasn't there.

 

Holtzmann became worried that some other horrible thing had happened to compound Erin’s day resulting in the phone call she took.

 

“Who was on the phone? I mean… is everything ok?”

 

Erin sobered quickly and proceeded to put on quite an act of “having it together” in front of Holtzmann.

 

“Actually, yes. Everything is fine… now,” she said, straightening her back and forcing a smile.

 

Unfortunately for her, Holtzmann wasn’t buying it and she certainly wasn’t selling it as she attempted to gather her effects with shaking hands, not really accomplishing much more than tidying her bar area and tying her scarf around her neck a little too tight.

 

“I…thank you. Thank you for your company this afternoon. But I have to… I have to… go. I’m sorry.”  

 

Erin’s words were failing her now even more than in the conversation with Phil.

 

She had known Phil for over a year, and Holtzmann for less than an afternoon and somehow this was harder to navigate.

 

One thing Erin was never good at was exit strategy.

 

She had never been the one to leave.

 

“Ok, um, well, jeez.” Holtzmann ran her fingers through her hair and went through a gamut of facial expressions trying to register what Erin had said.

 

“Uhh…Let me give you my number and you can just hit me up when…”

 

“No. Thank you. That won’t be necessary.”

 

Erin felt like she was going to throw up.

 

“It turns out I may be getting my position at Columbia back. That was Phil..."

 

"Your boyfriend... “

 

Holtzmann hated the sound of that word coming out of her mouth, but not not as much as Erin did.

 

“Thank you for making the effort on my behalf,” she managed to squeak out with a shaky voice.

 

That familiar strangle started again in Erin’s throat as she held out a hand to Holtzmann, for, what? _A handshake?_ What the hell was that?

 

Holtzmann didn’t reach out to accept, but instead sat back down on her stool, eyes locked on Erin who couldn’t meet her gaze.

 

“Phil? You’re getting your job back? At Columbia?” Holtzmann weighed the news out loud. “They’re giving you your tenure then?”

 

Erin was sandbagged.

 

“I… I don’t know. I don’t think so. But the Dean of my department says that he’ll consider reinstating my position if I adhere to certain conditions. So, I have to go and… take care of this.”

 

“What conditions?” Holtzmann’s voice was concerned and somewhat suspicious, the worry showing on her face.

 

“He said… that… I simply had to apologize…. for…. lying about the ghosts.”

 

“But you didn’t lie. Did you?”

 

“No, but that’s not the point.”

 

Holtzmann was very calm, all thing considered.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m trying to understand. Why is having to say you lied to get your job back not the important detail here?”

 

“Because I have no choice, Holtzmann.”

 

“But, I think that you do….”

 

Erin was beginning to feel like a trapped animal and adeptly acted the part.

 

“Do _what_?” Erin bit back. “Have options? I’m not like you. Things don’t just fall into my lap. Not everyone is a child prodigy or has someone _give_ them a bar. And while I thank you for trying to help me, I can’t turn my back on this for something so uncertain as…”

 

She gestured between them but quickly tried to cover it up by broadening it to include the bar, the world, the universe…

 

"It’s not ideal, but I have no one to blame but myself…”

 

Erin could almost hear Phil saying those words in her head and as a reflex she closed her eyes and pounded her fist on the back of the bar stool she was leaning against, causing Holtzmann to misread the action being as directed at her.

 

Holtzmann tensed up, “So you’re just going to go back? Just like that? No… no tenure. To Columbia… to _Phil_?”

 

Erin’s eyes shot open.

 

“Yes, to _Phil_. Yes to _all!_   What do you care? What, did you think you were going to be my knight in shining armor and save the day? Well, I’m sorry to break it to you, but _we don’t know each other_ ,” she hit the last five words hard for emphasis.

 

Holtzmann’s eyes grew wide and Erin could see pain painted where blue irises once glowed.

 

"What do _I_ care?" she shook her fists in front of her in frustration, sucking in a breath.

 

"You are so beautiful and, I'm starting to second guess myself on the next one, _smart_ , and you deserve so much more than the bullshit hand you've been dealt..."

 

She stepped closer, wanting to reach out and grab the taller woman and hug her? Shake her? She rested her hand gently on her forearms.

 

"Erin, why would you go back to any of that? Don't you think I see how crazy this looks? This..."

 

She mimicked Erin's gesture between them, the bar, the world, the universe...

 

"But I'm no dummy either, and I know a good thing when I see it. I'm sorry I don't fit into your stereotypical image of how people in your life are supposed to be, Erin, but not everyone is a shitty person! I know I can help.”

 

Erin finally met Holtzmann’s eyes with exasperation and defeat.

 

“I can barely fix this, what makes you think you can?” she whispered.

 

Holtzmann nodded, hurt, and the words that followed matched.

 

“In that case, I offer you my congratulations. Congrats on getting everything you’re willing to settle for.”

 

And with that Holtzmann walked away, leaving Erin by the bar.

 

She went the length of the room to where Kevin sat at the piano and tapped him on the shoulder, motioning for him to get up from the bench to allow her to sit down in his place.

 

Erin watched Holtzmann walk away, mouth opening and closing wordlessly at… _did she really just say that to me?_

 

“ _Excuse me_ …” Erin followed her to the piano. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

 

Holtzmann had already begun playing and didn’t even look up from the keys to deliver her response.

  
  
“I don’t _think_ … I _know_ who I am,” the blonde retorted.

 

“And you think I don’t know who I am, is that it?”

 

“I dunno…. do you?” she spat back, flatly.

 

“Unbelievable…!” Erin started to storm away, doubling back after several stomping steps.

 

“Up until today I knew _exactly_ who I was, where I was going, and then it all got ripped out from under me. And now I have a chance at salvaging some semblance of the life I had and you’re going to throw that back in my face?”

 

Erin shoved a finger hard into Holtz’s shoulder, but the blonde played on.

 

“ _You_ , a complete stranger, you’re really going to sit there and add insult to my injury? What do you get out of kicking me when I’m down like this?” Erin’s voice was trembling.

 

Holtz stopped playing. She took a moment to really think before she responded.

 

“That is not my intention. It isn’t. But you’re right, I am a complete stranger… a complete stranger to whom you poured your heart out over a few drinks; and you may not like the sound of it, but I think I have you pretty well sized up.”

 

“Oh, really?” Erin wreathed her arms like a malcontent, feeling very vulnerable at Holtzmann's words.

 

Holtz stood from the bench and walked right up to Erin, looking her in the eye.

 

“You know what you look like to me? You look like someone who has their whole life handed back to them as a clean slate. _Everything_ you’ve talked about since I sat down next to you has been heartache after heartache; why would you want to return to any of that? To a job that doesn't appreciate you, to a boyfriend you hate, and for all I can tell hates you too? Baby, you’re hot as hell, but if you don’t take advantage of this opportunity for a new start, then you’re unfortunately _dumb_ as hell, too.”

 

The “ _fuck you_ ” that failed to fall from Erin’s lips could be clearly seen on her face, but Holtzmann was taking no pride in it.

 

Her eyes flashed in anger and she turned away once again and crossed determinedly back to her stool.

 

She opened her purse, threw down a twenty, grabbed her coat, and stormed out of the bar without another word or a glance behind her.

 

The sudden sound of cars and rain from outside could be heard, and then the door slammed, closing Erin on the other side.

 

Holtz’ heart fell into her stomach. _Had she gone too far?_

 

She looked to Patty across the bar; all her friend could offer was a shrug.

 

Holtz closed her eyes and pounded the lid of the piano.

 

“ _Fuck!_ ”


	5. Twisting In The Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And suddenly you know: It's time to start something new and trust the magic of beginnings.”  
> ― Meister Eckhart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be aware that in this last chapter there is description of anxiety, panic, and dealing with panic. It does end happily though, I think that's only fair to say. 
> 
> Also, the song I imagine Holtzmann playing near the end of this chapter is linked in the end notes for reference. If you like, playing it along with the story from the point the description begins is rather nice. I have marked its beginning with an *.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has read, who has commented, who has kudos'd. Thank you for joining me on this journey. 'Til we meet again...

The rain sounded like radio static.

 

The cold set in as soon as the door slammed behind her but that was of no concern to her now.

 

Erin had no idea where she was going for the second time that day as she tore down the sidewalk, splashing through puddles as though they weren’t there.

 

She withered at the thought of the bar becoming just another broken piece of the past being left in her wake.

 

“Fucking great!” she exclaimed through the falling rain as she struggled to put on her coat, surprising an elderly man coming out of a bodega.

 

She was not yet twenty yards from the door in the downpour and Erin was already soaked again.

 

Her equally wet coat would do nothing to change that, but this was a detail that would go without comprehension and without address as Erin replayed the clash that had just unfolded inside the bar.

 

“ _…then you’re dumb as hell, too…_ ” repeated over in her mind.

 

Her eyes darted back and forth along the sidewalk as she went, caring nothing for any other foot traffic along the way.

 

A cabbie pulled up alongside her and rolled down the window with a shout.

 

“Hey, lady! You need a ride?”

 

She didn’t look in his direction.

 

She didn’t even hear him.

 

The cars and people and rain all moved in slow motion around her.

 

Her fingers twitched at her side and she couldn’t stop shaking her head in disbelief in the attempt to comprehend what she had done to deserve the maelstrom of misery that was plaguing her.

 

Two cars in the street nearly collided on flooded pavement and blared their horns; the sudden siren snapping Erin back to the present.

 

Her vision tunneled and she felt the strangle in her throat intensify.

 

The world was catching up with her.

 

Erin turned into the shadow of an alleyway and screamed into her hands.

 

Her fingers gripped tight on her face as though they were the only thing keeping her from falling to pieces. 

 

She pushed her back up against the brick wall and felt a distinct panic rise up, one that she had somehow managed to stave off until then.

 

But like the rain in her company there was no stopping the tears now.

 

Angry pellets from eye and sky washed down her face as she heaved for breath.

 

Her tears were hot, and she could feel the difference between the streams.

 

Erin wished she were numb.

 

She knew today could get worse, she told herself it would, and it did.

 

It really fucking did. 

 

And now she was lost.

 

Completely and hopelessly lost- in life, in love, in vision, in motivation…

 

She wished Phil had never called; that he would have just let her drop off the face of the earth.

 

She pinched her wrist in an attempt to ground herself, to comfort herself, but she knew no comfort would be forthcoming by her own hand.

 

_Holtzmann…_

 

Erin watched water fall in sheets from a tin awning across the alleyway as she thought about the woman at the bar.

 

Erin Gilbert did not have a successful history of tranquility.

 

If variety was the spice of life, stress was her pepper, and Erin didn’t know how to say “ _when_.”

 

She started each day with a meditation CD from her therapist; a fact no one, not Abby, not even Phil, knew.

 

She would listen to the first track as she brushed her hair and imagine a stream before her…

 

...then placing all her worries into the stream one by one…

 

…then watching them all wash away…

 

Erin closed her eyes and attempted to recall these images there in the alley, but there was a disconnect.

 

Every worry she placed in her imaginary river would reappear in hear hands.

 

Over and over.

 

In one fleetingly lucid moment she realized that her worries weren’t going to wash away on an imaginary stream any more than they would on the very real one forming in the gutter before her, like so many leaves down the drain.

 

Holtzmann was right.

 

She knew she was right, but it wasn’t that easy, was it?

 

It was never that easy.

 

Not for Erin, it wasn’t.

 

Erin’s mind was awash with a cacophony of conflicting notions and voices…

 

_Of all the bars in all the world why did I have to walk into that one? Why that bar?_

 

_All I would have to do is tell one lie…_

 

_Phil was loving this, wasn’t he?_

 

_What would you do if you could do anything?_

 

_A lie about lying…_

 

_What if we had kissed?_

 

_You’ll fix this, you’ll have to…_

 

_They’re giving you your tenure?_

 

_I am dumb as hell, aren’t I?_

 

_Did she say I was beautiful?_

 

_I’d look like a crazy person…_

 

_What are you going to do, work at Higgins with Abby….?_

 

_Holtzmann would set up a meeting…_

 

_Congrats on getting everything you’re willing to settle for…_

 

_You’re dumb as hell…_

 

_You’re dumb as hell…_

 

_You’re dumb as hell…_

 

“No, I’m NOT!” she shouted at herself, breaking from the voices.

 

Erin slammed her fists on the wall behind her and fled the alley in the direction of Holtzmann’s bar… Decidedly with the mission to bring down one fateful blow of her own upon this day.

 

»»-------------¤-------------««

 

She could feel her heartbeat in her eyeballs; her face hot with anticipation.

 

Her gait was purposeful and her direction sure, and for the first time that day she found herself operating with absolute certainty **.**

 

Erin shoved her way past a canoodling couple who were entering the bar ahead of her, ignoring their exclamations of vexation as she charged down the hallway.

 

She stopped fast at the edge of the floor.

 

Her sapphire eyes flashed like a flame through gun smoke, scanning the room for the object of her return.

 

Holtzmann was sat back at the piano by then, forlornly producing solemn notes from the keys beneath her fingers.

 

She hadn’t noticed Erin’s return.

 

Patty spotted her first, and could see the fire in the redhead’s eyes, but before she could warn Holtzmann, Erin was already halfway across the room.

 

Holtzmann saw movement in her peripheral and stood with no delay, uncertain of the woman rushing toward her.

 

Time was simultaneously fast and unmoving, and in the distance between them hung a myriad of possible outcomes.

 

Only one would be true, however, this Holtzmann knew.

 

She braced herself for whatever would come next, whether she deserved it or not.

 

Erin counted down the steps that separated them and prepared herself as she drew nearer to Holtzmann, grabbing the blonde by the shoulders and forcing her lips against the ones that she didn’t know she missed until right then.

 

The lips she had barely felt on hers before things fell apart for the hundredth time that day.

 

These soft and sure lips.

 

 _There would be no interruptions this time_.

 

Holtzmann jumped at the impact, hands flying up for a moment with the sensation that she might fall, but she found her senses disarmed at once as Erin’s lips laid siege on hers.

 

She leaned into the kiss, grasping around Erin’s waist inside her trench coat, thankful with _need_.

 

The kiss was firm and desperate, both women trying to inhale for their lives; all synapses firing at once.

 

Erin’s fingers braided into Holtzmann’s kinked tresses as the blonde brought their hips together.

 

Obviously Erin had kissed before, she couldn’t say how many times, but she never expected to so freely yield to the passion that was unfolding between her and Holtzmann.

 

Their desire turned hasty and hungry, Holtzmann’s mouth parting Erin’s own eager lips, her hands squeezing at swelling ribs under shaky breath, the confident touch of her tongue on Erin’s eliciting an unexpected whimper.

 

Pulses finding synchronicity, they moved in tandem under the dappled bar lights; a lovers’ duet.

 

There was much to say between them…

 

_…Sorry… Stay… Save me…_

 

They played their words out for one another in a major key.

 

Erin’s head cleared of all voices but one, that voice echoing the rallying validation of the woman before her.

 

Holtzmann was right, and if she was right then nothing could be wrong.

 

Now, delicate and lingering, their lips slowed in time along with their heartbeats, and they swayed to the rhythm of a song only they could hear.

 

Holtzmann held Erin’s hand to her heart and Erin knew this was where she was suppose to be.

 

The blonde lifted her other hand to brush Erin’s wet hair from her face, coming to rest on her crimson crested cheeks.

 

Its serene solidity was a connection entirely new to Erin and she cried softly at the touch, relaxing her cheek into Holtzmann’s hand, their foreheads touching.

 

There was something there, they could both feel it.

 

The look in Holtzmann’s eyes was all Erin needed to confirm she felt it too.

 

Erin was the first to speak, breaking the palpable silence, unafraid of the tears retreating from her eyes.

 

“ _Holtz_ …"

 

The blonde gave a quiet ‘shh,’ but Erin continued.

 

"Why didn’t you come after me?”

 

Holtzmann’s response came as a quick whisper.

 

“I knew you’d be back…”

 

Erin was still reeling from the kiss and it stymied her comprehension of what those words meant.

 

_Had her stubbornness been so transparent?_

 

_Had there been a deeper connection that drew her to this spot on this day?_

 

_…To this bar?_

 

_…Into Holtzmann’s arms?_

 

_How did she know she would return?_

 

 _By all accounts she should be halfway to Midtown by now,_ she reasoned.

 

Erin lifted her head, ready to press the blonde further and saw Holtzmann’s lips ever so slightly curl into a smile, giving her pause.

 

“You left your box here…” Holtzmann grinned.

 

A deeper connection, indeed.

 

Erin shook her head and laughed with a sigh, but Holtzmann stopped her with another kiss.

 

She may have known Erin would be back but she was sure now that it wasn’t because of the box.

 

Breaking the kiss against her better judgement, Erin swallowed and traced a finger on the button near Holtzmann’s collar.

 

“I hear that you might know of an opening for a Particle Physicist at NYU…” 

 

“Ah, ah, ah! A _very attractive_ Particle Physicist… who’s asking?”

 

“Well… I happen to know one who is on the move and looking for a place to land.”

 

Holtzmann shook her head, feigning disappointment.

 

“I’m sorry to say that position may already be filled…”

 

Erin didn’t catch the joke at first, but before she could speak Holtzmann persisted comfortingly.

 

“Seriously though… I think you’ve got it in the bag.”

 

Erin let out a breath of relief, thankful she hadn’t ruined this chance too.

 

“Let’s get you that interview.”

 

"And if that doesn’t work out, maybe you can teach me to play piano and I can work here,” Erin joked, feeling more at ease.

 

“What? And give up Kevin? I don’t think so…”

 

Erin poked Holtzmann’s side, producing a hearty laugh.

 

“Have dinner with me,” Holtzmann requested, eyes sparkling at the woman in her arms.

 

Erin nodded, hesitating.

 

“On one condition… that you to finish that beautiful song I so rudely interrupted when I stormed back in here a minute ago. You know, I never _really_ got to hear you play today.”

 

Holtz’ face lit up. 

 

She took Erin’s hand and led her to sit down beside her on the piano bench to do just that.

*

Holtzmann decided to play the song again from its start, taking care for this to be the performance of a lifetime; if she were able to lay her soul out on staff paper for Erin this would be it.

 

Erin watched Holtzmann’s fingers till the landscape of the piano’s keys, harvesting notes as beautiful and ephemeral as a child’s bubbles reflecting the sun.

 

She rested her head on Holtz’ shoulder as the song played on.

 

It was everything; sad and sweet, lamenting and hopeful, just like their short time together had been so far.

 

She felt Holtz’ thigh muscle flex against her own on the bench with each press of the pedals and her mind began to wander.

 

A verse from Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night came to mind as Holtz hit the song’s bridge.

 

_“Oh, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound,_

_That breathes upon a bank of violets,_

_Stealing and giving odor.”_

 

Erin didn’t have to imagine a river carrying her worries away downstream, Holtz’ calculated charges were casting them down with every brush of her fingers against the keys.

 

Phil…the lies…the uncertainty…the disgrace all wiped from her mind, leaving only tonight, tomorrow, endless possibilities, and more importantly, Holtzmann to fill the expanses of her mind.

 

The song slowed to the end with the last pedal push elongating the final note out into infinity; Holtzmann pressed a soft kiss to the top of Erin’s head as the note vanished, so soft Erin almost wasn’t sure she felt it.

 

But she did.

 

Just enough.

 

_Just like heaven._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song I imagine Holtzmann playing in this last chapter is 
> 
> River Flows In You by Yiruma
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7maJOI3QMu0
> 
>  
> 
> PS- I've been told by a handful of folks in the past that they deadass noped out of reading my first fic, Thunderstruck, when they thought I killed Holtz in the first chapter. No one dies. From the bottom on my heart, please give it another go. Bless you.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to LJTheBard for the handful of thoughts that sparked this story for me, and for helping me get out of my creative slump. I hope you all enjoy it. Cheers.


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